Tuesday, October 10, 2017

As you know, serious thinkers have demonstrated—at least
they think they have—that men are disinclined to get married because they can
get all of the free love they want without making a commitment.

What’s a girl to do? One blogger, named JudgyBitch decided
to do something radical to compete for her man: she did his laundry. In terms that I have
occasionally introduced, she acted like a wife. When women say that they reject
the notion of being a wife, what are they really saying: that they
would rather be a courtesan. After all, what else did they learn from reading
Cosmo and from Women’s Studies 101.

How can a woman
compete for men when men are constantly being tempted by women that she—not I—calls
sluts. Excuse the infelicitous and slightly vulgar image:

What is
a sensible, reasonable woman to do in the face of sluts throwing their vaginas
around like confetti at a wedding? In truth, it’s not that hard to compete with
sluts. What you’ll need are some domestic skills and a sense of loyalty
to match your man’s.

She describes a time when she and her eventual husband were both in college and when
she asked him for the key to his room. He was out doing what students do and
she was back in his room, doing what? Was she decking herself out in her finest
negligee, strewing rose petals all over the room, lighting incense candles, preparing for an erotic
encounter straight out of The Story of O? Not at all. Read it and weep:

I went
to Mr. JudgyBitch’s room and collected all his laundry. I washed it and
then, using a piece of cardboard, folded it into beautiful Gap store origami
and arranged it on his shelves perfectly. He came home to a room that
smelled of Tide and Bounce, with his shirts ironed and hung and his t-shirts
lined up on a shelf with military precision.

How did her man react?

He
fucking died. He told me later that THAT was the moment he knew he would
marry me. We have a long standing joke about choosing me randomly,
because Mr. JudgyBitch, handsome and tall, was quite a catch on campus.
He had been to a hot tub party at the Faculty of Law and acquired the number of
a hot young law student who happened to share the same first name as me.
So he had two “JBs” on his cork board and he picked one to call one lonely
Friday night, and it was me!

It’s all about economy. While free love is a surplus
commodity, housewifery is a scarce commodity. If a young man finds a woman who
wants to be a housewife and who shows it by doing his
laundry, he is more likely to want to marry her right away. Of course, if a woman does not want to get married, she should under no circumstances do the laundry. Now, that was easy.

Anyway, it was not
just about laundry:

During
our 18 months at grad school, I continued to do his laundry. I learned
what he liked for breakfast and had a tray ready for him every morning. I
fetched him hot food when he was tied up in long meetings, got him coffee when
he looked tired and rubbed his back after eight hours of lectures in a chair designed
for someone six inches shorter. I folded his laundry, made his bed and
listened to his frustrations.

Of course, you are wondering what JudgyBitch got for all of
this subservience. Besides, of course, a husband, three children and a stable homelife. She
answers your question:

What
did he do for me? It doesn’t matter. The answer is:
LOTS! But we’re not talking about quid pro quo here. If your first
instinct was to set up a mental balance sheet and make sure all of YOUR
thoughtful actions are being returned in EXACT PROPORTION to your outlay, you
might as well give up now. You don’t know shit about men, or
relationships of any kind.

Here she makes the salient moral point. She did not keep
score. She did not keep a ledger. She did not demand an instant quid pro quo.
But, since she did not make demands, she received whatever he gave as something he wanted to
give.

Note also that she did not cook all the time. When they were
living in China they never ate at home. Yet, he always knew that she cared:

What he
DID know was that I cared about what he ate. I cared if he was
hungry. I would not hesitate to trudge across campus in rainy, shitty
weather to bring him a hot dinner.

That’s
how you compete with sluts. Be a wife. Be a woman. Look at
the man, and care about him deeply. Don’t create a scorecard. Don’t
keep tally about who brought coffee to whom. Let the balance swing in his
favour dramatically.

What
will you get in return? Oh, just a husband. A man who loves you
completely. Loyalty, protection, honesty, reliability,
dependability. A rock who will weather any storm for you. Who lives
for you. As long as you live for him.

She got to be a wife because she wanted to be a wife. She is full time mother to her children. She
has also advanced her education, if you care to know.

So, to respond to the social psychologists who pretend that
women should be in despair of finding husbands in a marketplace where so many
other women are giving it away for free, JudgyBitch explains:

That’s
how you defeat sluts. Because at the end of the day, sluts are in it for
themselves. They don’t give a shit about any particular man, and will
toss whatever man they DO manage to snare under the fucking bus the second they
think something better has come along. To hell with the man, to hell with their
children, to hell with everything but their own insatiable desires. For
something they will never have.

Love.
True love. It’s a verb, ladies. Show it. Do the fucking
laundry.

And you thought that the "Rules" ladies, that is Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider were bad?

I believe it depends on what you ulimately want. Personally I prefer men who value intellectually challenging women, and would rather stay alone then doing laundry just in order to get into someone's heart.